I'm going to tell you something embarrassing. Not embarrassing like "I accidentally texted grandma a poop emoji" embarrassing. Embarrassing like "I should have known better and here I am, punching myself in the face repeatedly."

Someone tried to scam me recently. My husband and I entertained an offer from a guy who wanted to pay for some spicy photos. We're not sex workers—we were a couple who used to be polyamorous, and this felt like a moment to be a little wild together. A little extra cash around Christmas never hurt anyone, and we were curious.

The more we talked to him, the weirder it got. He pushed for more than we'd agreed to. He wanted information we weren't comfortable giving. And when we started asking reasonable questions—basic safeguards anyone would expect—he got defensive.

We said no. We backed out. And then he ghosted. Deleted his account. Disappeared into the digital void.

Here's what pisses me off: there's nothing wrong with what we almost did. Consenting adults exchange intimate content for money every single day. OnlyFans is legal. Private sales between adults are legal. What's NOT legal is being a predator who uses fraud to obtain images or threatens to distribute them without consent.

The Vulnerability Tax

I've written before about the vulnerability paradox—how being real is supposedly the key to connection, but it also makes you a target. Well, here's another layer to that paradox: when you're navigating something unfamiliar, your judgment can get cloudy. You start seeing adventure where there might be traps. When someone offers you money and excitement in the same package, you want to believe them. You overlook the fact that legitimate transactions have safeguards, paper trails, proof of good faith. Con artists know this. They dangle exactly enough to make you ignore the alarm bells.

I'm not saying I deserved what happened. I didn't. My husband didn't. We were genuine. We communicated openly with each other about boundaries and comfort levels. We were responsible adults trying to navigate a weird situation together. The other person? They were a predator wearing an opportunity costume.

And that's the thing about monsters. They don't announce themselves. They study you first. They learn what you want, what you're curious about, what makes you feel desired. And then they use all of it.

The Special Trap

I want to talk about that word: special. Because there was a moment—I'm being honest here—where some part of me felt flattered. Wanted. Valuable. Even though the whole situation was unconventional, there was this tiny glow of "someone sees us and wants something from us" that felt almost validating.

And I hate that. I hate that I'm hardwired to seek validation, that despite all my work on myself, there's still a part of me that lights up when someone acts like I matter. That's the wound the monsters know how to find. They're not targeting your stupidity; they're targeting your humanity.

The aftermath isn't just anger. It's shame. It's the internal monologue that says "you should have known better" on repeat until you want to scream. It's paranoia—because now I'm wondering if there's something worse coming, if I'm being set up for something, if my vulnerability is going to be weaponized.

And you know what? Maybe it will be. Maybe some asshole is sitting somewhere right now with a piece of my life they shouldn't have. But I refuse to let fear turn me into someone who never trusts again.

Do No Harm But Take No Shit

So here's the philosophy I'm building: Do No Harm But Take No Shit.

The first part is about who I want to be. I don't want to become the monster just because monsters exist. I don't want to hurt people preemptively because I've been hurt. I don't want to close myself off so completely that I become another cynical casualty of the crabs in the bucket. The world doesn't need another hardened, suspicious person adding to the collective distrust. I want to stay soft where it counts—with my husband, with my family, with the people who have earned my vulnerability.

The second part is about boundaries. And I'm realizing that "take no shit" doesn't mean being aggressive or retaliatory. It means recognizing the shit for what it is and refusing to accept it as normal. It means learning the patterns so you can spot them earlier next time. It means forgiving yourself for the lessons that cost you something and using that wisdom as armor.

Was I naive? A little. Did that creepy dude try to take advantage of us? Absolutely. But here's the truth that sits underneath both of those things: we were operating in good faith, and he wasn't. That's not a character flaw on our part. That's just the terrible math of living in a world where some people are monsters.

The World We Actually Live In

Isn't life supposed to be pleasurable and joyful as long as we don't harm anyone? I ask that question a lot. I think about all the ways humans have made simple things complicated, how we've built systems that judge people for their sexuality while consuming their content, how we stigmatize choices that hurt no one.

Here's the thing I need you to hear: there is nothing shameful about adults choosing to share their bodies with other adults. There's nothing wrong with OnlyFans. There's nothing wrong with being sexual, being curious, or wanting to explore something new with your partner. Millions of people create and consume adult content every single day, and the vast majority of those transactions happen between consenting adults who walk away satisfied.

The tragedy isn't that we considered selling some photos. The tragedy is that predators exist who weaponize people's openness. The shame belongs to them—not to the people who trusted in good faith.

What I'm Taking From This 

I'm taking the lesson, not the shame. The lesson is that I need to listen to my gut when something feels too eager, too pushy, too resistant to reasonable questions. The lesson is that legitimate opportunities don't get weird when you ask for safeguards. The lesson is that my worth isn't determined by whether strangers want something from me.

I'm also taking this: I still have my husband. We navigated this together, honestly, with communication and care for each other's comfort. We're still a team. We're still building our life. Some asshole disappearing into the internet void doesn't change that. Our foundation is solid because we built it on truth, even when the truth was uncomfortable.

And I'm taking this platform. This space where I get to write about the shit that happens and hopefully make someone else feel less alone. Maybe you've been there too. Maybe you're reading this and cringing because you recognize the feeling of being played. If so, hear me: you're not stupid. You're human. And being human in a world full of monsters is a goddamn act of bravery.

The Monster Check

Before I wrap this up, I want to offer something practical. A little checklist I'm developing for myself, because apparently I need one:

Does this person get weird when you ask for safeguards or time to think? Legitimate people understand caution. Predators resent it. This was our biggest red flag—the pushback when we wanted to slow down and verify things.

Is there a verifiable paper trail, or is everything conveniently off-record? Disappearing is a lot easier when there's no evidence you existed.

Are they pushing for more than you agreed to? Scope creep is a warning sign. If someone keeps expanding what they want after you've set boundaries, they're testing how far they can push you.

Does your gut feel excited or desperate? Excitement and desperation can feel similar. One comes from abundance; the other comes from scarcity. Know which one is driving you.

Would you be embarrassed to tell someone you trust about this? Shame is often a signal that something's not right. Not always—sometimes it's just trauma or social conditioning—but it's worth examining.

Know your rights. As of 2025, federal law (the TAKE IT DOWN Act) makes it a crime to publish intimate images without consent—and "consent" legally means agreement made without fraud, coercion, or misrepresentation. If someone lies to get your photos and then threatens you with them? That's a federal crime. If your photos show up somewhere you didn't agree to? Platforms have 48 hours to remove them once you report it. This doesn't undo the violation, but it does mean you're not powerless.

The Softness I'm Keeping 

I could end this by saying I'm never trusting anyone again. That would be the expected arc, right? Get burned, become bitter, close up shop.

Fuck that.

The monsters don't get to win by turning me into someone I don't want to be. I'm keeping my softness. I'm keeping my belief that most people are trying their best. I'm keeping my openness with the people who have proven themselves. I'm just getting better at identifying who those people are before I hand them anything valuable.

And I'm keeping my right to be a sexual person who explores things with my husband without shame. That's mine. No predator gets to take that from me.

Do no harm. Take no shit. Stay soft where it matters. Get sharper where it counts.

Don't be a fucking predator. That's the only rule that matters.

That's the path forward. That's how we survive in a world with monsters without becoming one ourselves.